


Until Morning Light

by Sensabo



Series: The Longest Night [2]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 07:22:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24347203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sensabo/pseuds/Sensabo
Summary: Felix isn’t feeling well, if the slurred speech and red static is anything to go by.[transistor au]
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Series: The Longest Night [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757800
Kudos: 18





	Until Morning Light

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t seen any more transistor feliannie besides two (2) fanarts so I’m feeding myself again.  
> This has been haunting me for two months, please just take it. I’m sorry if it’s not cooked well, I’m starving just take it from me let me be free

The first encounter left Felix reeling. 

Annette heard it in the way his breath hitched mid-sentence and abruptly cut off. She paused, staring down at the too large blade that seemed to glow in the night as the lift carried them up to High Rise. _Felix?_

Something strange howled, a deepness to it that settled a seedling of fear into her bones. Lights from the city, distorted by the lift’s bars, flickered and fell into the darkness on the heels of that strange noise. Felix’s voice barely reached her ears, distant and muted.

The lift shuddered to a stop and the gate groaned open to High Rise awash in that familiar neon glow of the night paired with the jarring sight of empty streets. White patches on the ground buckled and stacked; the Process crawled forth from the odd risen shapes with that sickening metallic clicking Annette had grown attuned to. They twitched — newborns taking their first steps — before rushing towards the lift at full tilt. 

Her gaze flicked from the approaching Process down to Felix, her grip tightening on the hilt and worry plain on her features.

”Focus, Annette,” Felix hissed, voice tense as if he was gritting his teeth. Red particles began to pour from the center orb on the blade. He sounded different...

But there’s no more time.

A new Process, one the shape of a dog (which would have been extremely cute under different circumstances) lunged forward to close the short distance between it and her. Metallic claws and jagged teeth gleamed in the streetlights, the creak and groan of metal so loud in her ears.

It was instinct, the way her body reacted with the memory of his words hummed in her ear. Days, slow and gentle, that saw the two of them close with his hands lightly guiding her every step of the way. His voice in her ear and breath against her cheek as he leaned in — _move them further apart, shoulder width... now drop your weight and —_

Gold laced with blue static flashed in the night as the transistor fired off a shot. The crack of it momentarily drowned out the chitter noise of the Process, and the dog-like Process collapsed to a heap with a melted hole in its chest. It shuddered and disassembled, leaving only white in its wake.

”That’s my girl.”

His compliment, quiet and weak with strain but warm all the same, glowed in the red that shuddered in the air and brushed against her cheeks.

Annette could have basked in the gentleness of his words for hours, let the memories of yesterdays soothe the gaping ache of loss— 

The remaining Process chittered and clattered ever closer. These ones she knew. Theirs was an equation and, unlike the dog Process, she knew the formula to solve them. Pain from the bruises and cuts scattered and bloomed across her skin thrummed to the numbers, to the dance. Felix always did say experience was the best teacher...

Neither of them wished for this.

Red light poured from the blade’s center like static and Felix groaned, his voice rough and jagged at the edges. It cuts through the screeching of metal, another blade in her heart. 

His voice washes over her as the blade falls.

“....Keep moving, Annette...”

And she does.

* * *

The second encounter aggravated old wounds.

They were crossing a bridge in High Rise with a pack of Process hounds on their heels when the shadow passed them by, that strange moan in its wake. Beneath her grip, Felix seemed to shudder as the red static sputtered. 

”No...no, no, no...”

_Hold on, Felix._

Annette spun on her heel, planted the blade firmly in the ground and braced herself. Worrying her bottom lip between her teeth — a sickening familiar taste on her tongue — she angled the blade and watched the pack storm closer. Closer. Closer, Felix’s murmurs like knives in her ears, her heart, her soul—

She fired, a static bounce that hit the first Process and shattered as it ricocheted to the next. Annette did not wait to see how many survived, she pulled the blade close and fled. An ache was well on its way to settling in her bones, but she kept her grip on him, an anchor for them both.

His voice, fragile, reached her as she pulled him close to round a corner.

”Not here... not here....Glenn, I...”

A stumble, another scrape as the building plaster tore at her shoulder but it did not register. Not right away. Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, a hand brushing past the hand guard to soothe the red orb that still mourned that red, red static. Felix only spoke that name in passing, on a certain day of the year and only when Sylvain tricked him too deep into the bottle. Only at night, when world was sleeping, did he ever utter that name and let himself fall to pieces in her arms. The memories still so fresh — the sound of his voice cracking, the tremble of his shoulders, his hands that clung to her, the tears against her shoulder, his warmth...

His warmth...

_Felix, Felix... I’m here, Felix._

His name fell silent from her lips, all but voiced. So much taken. She shifted to lower herself more to his level now, but jerked back as a screech filled the air. They’re close.

Felix struggles to speak between breaths, his voice almost lost in the red.

”Keep.... keep ...moving, Annette. _Please._ ”

And she does.

* * *

The third encounter crippled him.

Something darts high overhead, shadow too large and unnatural, and the ground itself shakes with its passing. Its scream pierces the night sky and Felix’s pained wail immediately joins the chorus, red particles pouring from the blade like tears. 

Annette cradles him and fashions herself a shield as best she can around his cold form. His name falls silent like a prayer, a plea from her lips. But it doesn’t reach him. He’s lost, in the mournful wail — in the red. Red, red, red. The color spraying from the blade, the taste on her lips, the color raw on her arms and legs, the memory too painfully fresh against pale skin and cold lips. Red, red, red. 

So she hums. 

The only sound left to her. 

The song is soft, a gentle melody she never sang before the crowd. Soft, special — whispered against his skin in the dark with only the moon and stars to witness. A song only he knew. 

_Come back to me, Felix._

Slowly, woven in between the frayed ends and the static that pulsed pain, the melody seeped into the night around them as they huddled in the shadows of an apartment. Gently, gently, his screaming faded as her song washed over him and filled the cracks _something_ sundered open. Familiar, the song bled beneath the metal and warmed the place where he remained — the only way they could share in the warmth now. 

Hesitant, broken and halting but there all the same, his voice shuddered to join. 

A twinge too quiet, a touch too broken. But this was theirs. 

Annette pressed her forehead to the guard, her face level with the orb, and closed her eyes. When the song ended she flowed right into another one, this one his — a nameless tune he used to hum when he thought her asleep, his thumb tracing idle patterns as his hand held hers. She could still feel the warm of his touch against her skin, the gentleness of his hands as he held her, the feel of his heartbeat and the melody against her back, his smile pressed against the top of her head —

_I love you, Felix..._

The words unspoken, but shaped upon her lips all the same as the melody faded.

”Annette...”

His voice cuts through the quiet, weary and tired though it is — his breathing is even stable.

Her head snaps up, furrowed gaze on him as she worries her lip between her teeth and presses her hands to the flat of the blade. Less red static pours from the center, but still it glows and pulses to a strange heartbeat. 

”Annette, I....”

Annette freezes. 

“...there’s nothing here.” 

His voice is quiet, a fragility to it that needles under her skin, stings worse than the blisters open and raw on her palms. 

”There’s no one, and nothing here.”

She presses her palm to the flat side of the blade, beside the orb where blue lines run like veins. _I’m here, Felix. I’m here._

“But when I look to where the sky should be, I see _you_ , Annette.”

He pauses. 

The orb pulses, static tumbles forth like blood from a wound.

“That’s when I miss you the most....”

_I’m here, Felix. I’m here._

Tears fall upon the white ground and the blade alike as she curls herself around him, his name voiceless on her lips. 

” **I miss you, Annette...** ”


End file.
